


The Big Bad Wolf

by UnholyPlumpPrincess



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Bloodhound has a vulva (Apex legends), Boot Humping, Canon Nonbinary Character, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fear Play, Fingerfucking, Gunplay, Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Character, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Public Sex, Reader is gn transmasc and has a vulva, Vaginal Fingering, Verbiage for reader is cock/dick/hole, chase kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyPlumpPrincess/pseuds/UnholyPlumpPrincess
Summary: Bloodhound loves to play with their favorite prey (you). Whether in the arena or out of it. You don't exactly roll belly up this time and give yourself over, leading them to chase you and deliver a just punishment for your bratty taunting.OrIn which you run from Bloodhound in the ring and they take that as a challenge, chasing you throughout Skyhook and narrowly missing you a few times. You taunt, only to end up flat on your back and your face fucked for being a little shit.
Relationships: Bloodhound (Apex Legends)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	The Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Social media you can request stuff from me or support me or if you make art and you can tag me!(Must have age in bio and be 18+ to interact).
> 
> Tumblr (most active): UnholyPlumpPrincess 
> 
> Twitter: PlumpPeachyGirl

If there was one thing you knew better than anything; It’s that you knew when you were being watched.

More specifically, when you were being watched by a certain someone who not only you called your lover, but who got a kick out of making a fool of you in the arena.

Bloodhound’s stare was like no other. Even out of the arena you could sense when their eyes were tracing your figure, feeling this sort of ‘being watched’ feeling coupled with an old primal instinct of prey. Your eyes would flicker around casually looking for the pair of eyes wherever you were, waiting until you caught gold and almost a fire-y iris of their blind eye. And in the arena, sometimes you heard the striking snarl before the soft huffing growls and stomping of boots edged your way.

Sometimes you got that feeling when you were lying in bed seemingly alone. Sitting up on your elbows and looking around the dark bedroom until you’d get pounced upon by your lover. With their crimson curls all free and framing your face as they sit atop you like a predator. Grinning at your startled squeak and nuzzling their nose to yours with a croon of, “I have caught you again, beloved.”

Yes, you were quite in tune with that feeling to a certain someone.

Today, you feel that familiar crawl up the back of your neck. Something in your body saying that you were being watched- but when you were in the arena of World’s Edge, honestly you expected that feeling.

There are just a few problems to this feeling. 

One, your team was far ahead of you, noted with one quick glance to the radar on your wrist. You couldn’t even indicate what direction they were facing. You weren’t sure when they took off, but you have a feeling they thought you were a loose end. Hurtful, but fine, you could solo this...maybe.  Oooor maybe you just got distracted looting- in that case, your bad.

Two, even if you were to ping an enemy- which you haven’t seen yet in the small area you’re at caught between Skyhook and the city- you have a feeling they wouldn’t make it in time. Leading to you dropping with only a kill or two under your belt. Kinda humiliating for the start of the season.

And finally, the third and final point: You, again, had no idea who and where this person was looking at you from. Well, to be fair, you had an idea of  ** who  ** could be watching you. Just you weren’t sure...where they were. Especially now that you’re tucked into one of the buildings, trying to peek through one of the windows with your own 3x scope to see if anyone was nearby.

What you didn’t know was that Bloodhound had noticed you treading through the snow a few moments earlier with your teammates going the opposite way. They knew you were easily distractable if you had one thing in mind, so you possibly didn’t hear your teammate’s pinging for you to follow. Instead, you’d wandered around the building and across the train tracks towards the vehicles with your lips seeming to murmur to yourself with the word ‘ammo’ being made out a few times.

They watched you through their own scope on their Kraber. Keeping a close eye on you as their teammates carefully looted around the city. Bloodhound had kindly told them to loot ahead, as their own loot was sufficient for their hunt. And with newbies nervous and giddy to be with one of the legends, they had quickly agreed and left Bloodhound to crouch on top of the building and watch you.

They admit, this new outfit made for them for this season was easier to breathe in. The almost skeletal mask and leather tech get up was very breathable, not to mention their respirator had been implemented into the new mask. The costume designer had been quite kind during the whole process. And Bloodhound knew for a fact you liked the outfit as well, considering they had caught your gaze on the dropship quite a few times.

And your wandering gaze when it was being fitted.

Sweet little thing you were. Such easy prey made out of you if you were under their weapon. How quickly you would submit once under them. But, oh, they certainly loved the thrill of a chase in the arena. Especially when last round you had the audacity to tease them on your own duo squad. Riling them up until they almost were tempted to make an example out of you in the arena.

Today...Today they think they will do just that.

And with that, they squeeze the trigger they had been holding their breath on. Shooting a bullet straight beside your head that makes a loud, thunderous crack from their location and where the bullet hits the wall behind your head. Resounding with a metallic ‘ting’ where it hits a canister on the wall.

You yelp, throwing yourself quickly to the side and away from the window as your heart races. Kraber. You had been sitting there long enough someone would have had a perfect shot- especially from almost how...close the shot sounded. They should have been able to take your shields in one shot, maybe even could have landed a fatal hit and left you for dead-

Bloodhound.

No one else plays with their food like this. Especially in the middle of the arena. Caustic played, sure, but he ensured accuracy and experimentation. Bloodhound liked to tease you in particular- you lost count on how many times they’d liked to play with you beforehand.

It led to up close and personal matches, making sponsors speculate on the terms of your two’s relationship and closeness. Only few times had you gotten the upper hand on them, but in the end, you were two legends in the arena, fighting for the claim of champion.

You glance at the open door leading down towards Skyhook. You could slide out there, duck behind cover. Your eyes also flicker to the other side of you, where you could run towards the train tracks and maybe get around to Trainyard where your team seemed to be lingering.

The resounding crack of their Kraber and the bullet hitting to your left makes you quickly scurry out the door leading through the snow to Skyhook. You scramble to duck behind the cover and feel your heart racing, ears straining over your own heartbeat and waiting to hear any more shots being taken.

But that’s when you hear a zipline being ridden, the slightly distant  thunking of boots on metal and then the loud, shocking snarl following the words, “I bathe in the bloth!”

Aw, fuck.

You’re taking off quicker, sliding down the snowy hill to get out of there as fast as you can. You have no idea what game they’re trying to play today, or even if this was just an elaborate way to take you down and off you alone. You had been notorious to do that- it would be vengeance well deserved on your part for teasing them.

You nearly trip on a rock in your hurry to haul ass with a quick left into a building. You nearly don’t get the door closed in time, hearing their body slam against it right behind you. You squeal with nervousness and excitement, taking that brief moment to shoot a glance over your shoulder at them to see the lenses of that skull-like mask are burning bright red. Their breath is louder, like little snarls, and you realize you’re waiting too close to the door when they slam their shoulder into it and it starts to shatter.

Shit.

You yelp as you take off again just in time for the door to shatter with their boot kicking it in. You’re zipping through the building, darting out onto the pavement with your chest hurting with your breaths from the chilled air. Briefly you worry in the back of your mind if Bloodhound’s breathing hurts- but you were there when the outfit was fitted and reminded yourself that their respirator was intact.

You distract yourself with your small worry, finding yourself coming to a dead end of a concrete wall. You could scale it, but you wouldn’t be quick enough. You’d probably be yanked back down.

You quickly turn your back to it, watching Bloodhound run at you and wait for the opening before running right back at them and sliding to the left of them. You near shout with delight when that works and you hear them like out a frustrated snarl as they come to the dead end and whip around to face you at the other end.

You can’t help it, grinning at their frustration and holding your thumbs to your temples, wiggling your hands back and forth and, much like a child, going, “Na na  na , can’t catch me! Too slow, Hound!”

Which...is not very bright of you at all.

Even with the lenses covering their eyes, you know you fucked up big time when you watch them reach up and click off their communication device. It ensures no one on audio capture could have their voice, nor could their team communicate back to them save for the visuals they got. You have a feeling you should turn yours off too- but that had to be admitting defeat right then and there, right?

“We shall see, beloved.” They call back to you, their voice lower than normal, almost like every word was a growl promising wicked things to you. “The wolf hungers for their prey, and my little rabbit shall not escape so easily.”

Oh...

Oh, that did things to you.

You almost think about standing there and rolling belly up. Maybe going ‘oh yes please’ but instinct overwhelms you when they bolt at you once again. You ‘eep’ in a way you won’t admit to later, quickly turning left and around the dead end so you could bolt more through Skyhook. You debate going to their trials, starting up the prowlers and forcing them to be paused to ensure the elimination of the beasts. It would be an easy enough distraction.

If it wasn’t all the way on the other side of Skyhook.

Your eyes flicker to one of the buildings, the bigger one just under the train tracks. If you could run inside and fake them out by hiding behind the building near the mountains in the fallen rocks, maybe you could escape? It sounds like their ultimate is starting to die down, no longer hearing the snarls chasing behind you, you could maybe-

The small light of hope, and you’re running harder in that direction. Quick to push open one of those doors and race to the side to get behind the building. But, they’re hot on your tail, so close you don’t even get to push the door shut before they’re tackling you.

You yelp as you go rolling with them into the shaded area behind a rock, quickly squirming and kicking, managing to get them off you and stand up to try and make a break for it.

Your ankle is caught and you’re yanked near face down if you hadn’t caught yourself on your forearms. Your leg is yanked until you zip back on the grass- which you can only assume from an outward point of view looks hysterical and something out of a horror movie- and find yourself flat on your back. 

Bloodhound doesn’t let you escape this time, climbing onto you, straddling your hips, knees pressing down onto the backs of your hands and ensuring you stay under them. Once you gain your bearings and your dotted vision had ceased, you go to try and move your trapped hands to maybe get a push on them to at least fight back. But quickly find your vision on the other end of the barrel of their Kraber.

Well. Fuck.

They hold it steady in their hands, cocked perfectly in front of your face and your heart racing in your chest. You can practically hear the smirk in Bloodhound’s voice as they mock your words from earlier, “Caught you. Seems you were the one too slow, litli kanína.” Yet the gun does not move from your face, keeping your full attention on it as your breathing comes out shaky. Both from running such a distance, and the fact you see their finger over the trigger.

And you don’t think the safety is on.

“Nothing to say?” They croon down at you, purposefully tilting the Kraber ever so slightly just to watch your eyes follow. “What has happened to your taunting earlier, beloved?”

You swallow thickly when they pause for just a moment, bringing the weapon closer until the thick barrel touches your lips. The cool metal ghosting against your quivering lips as you let out a shaky breath through your nose, eyes flickering from the gun to Bloodhound’s mask where you can’t make out any of their facial expression. 

“H-Hound-” You try to whimper out, coming out a little muffled with the barrel against your lips. You watch as their head tilts at their name, unable to figure out if they’re looking at you or looking down the sights of their weaponry.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wh-”

“Open. Your mouth.” Bloodhound growls this one out this time, and you hear it clearly. Parting your lips until the barrel catches your bottom lip. You quickly get the picture, parting your lips further until the barrel rests between your lips, feeling your body shaking in what you can’t figure out if it’s fear or arousal.

Probably both.

“Good pup. If you keep obeying, perhaps you shall receive a treat from your god, hm?” Their voice is low, you could have assumed they weren’t pissed from your earlier antics. Perhaps this was the treat, you think, as your body shakes in fear at the idea that they could pull the trigger at any moment. You carefully figure out how to lick your way across the barrel, whining through your nose when they force it deeper, knocking lightly against your teeth with the metal.

With one hand steady underneath the gun and stopping their touch on the trigger, you’re unable to see where their other hand goes. Until you feel leather clad fingers reaching under your shirt. Your breath stutters, going to pull your head back and managing to succeed when their hand gently cups your chest, smoothing a thumb just underneath at your scarring. Before they move upwards to pinch and tug at your pierced nipple.

You whine their name, only to find that the weapon is quickly back on your mouth and they’re pinching ever so slightly harder. In a way that makes you yelp and open your mouth back up so they can press the barrel back between your lips and making your jaw ache from being held open so long.

“Hold still. Do not speak. Or I shall put a bullet between your pretty eyes, do you understand me?” Bloodhound’s voice is a low threat, releasing your nipple and moving to the other to give it the same treatment until you give out a high whine and try your hardest to nod. Thankfully they take the hint, smoothing over the harsh pinch with their thumb until your hips are trying to buck up into theirs for any sort of friction.

You hate to admit it, but, God, you loved when they treated you rough.

Your cock is already engorged in your pants, rubbing achingly against the fly of your pants. You ache to be able to grind against their thigh, or even be able to hold their delicious ass and keep them still so you could rut against them pathetically. You wonder if you could whine and beg your way into an orgasm.

Or maybe if you put on a show for them, they’d spare mercy.

You move to make your motions more enjoyable and pleasing to watch on the barrel of their gun by moving your head back. You lick along the metal in a clean swipe, kissing at it and parting your lips to take it again with a low moan. Treating it as if you would treat them with open mouthed, hot kisses followed by a longing lick and a soft kiss pressed to the barrel. You don’t fear being shot when their hand is busy essentially groping you and keeping your interest, because it no longer rests on the trigger.

“Please-” You whine out with your lips smoothing across the barrel, knowing how much they loved to hear you plead. Your hips press upwards into theirs, seeking friction they won’t let you have when Bloodhound pulls their hips up ever so slightly and away from yours. You whine in misery, despite them thumbing your nipple and sending little shocks through your body. “Please, please, I want more-”

“I thought you were told not to speak, little one?” Bloodhound once again reminds you, making fear strike down your body. The gun is instead set to the side of you, and you wonder if they’ll spare mercy for your disobedience until two of their gloved fingers are pressed into your mouth. They press down on your tongue, making you drool around the smoothness of the leather and keeping your jaw open. Only making your whine sound that the much louder to yourself.

“Mmh. I wonder how far my squad is?” Bloodhound starts to speak, sliding their fingers back further into your mouth and easing on the pressure so you can close your mouth. They press deep enough for you to remember your lessons to breathe through your nose so you don’t choke, your hips bucking upwards and near sobbing through your nose. “Perhaps we should find them, hm? How pathetic and needy a little thing you are- you may get your mouth filled on camera, that shall surely teach you to keep quiet.”

You moan. You hate to admit it but you moan at the thought. The idea of Bloodhound’s fingers fisted in your hair, forcing you to take someone’s cock in your throat and do it on camera in front of everyone at home watching. You imagine them mocking you for enjoying it, maybe pressing their boot between your thighs and calling you pathetic and shameless. Your cock throbs in your pants, feeling the distinct pulsing of arousal as you moan around their fingers.

“Or perhaps that is a reward for you?” Bloodhound slides their fingers from your mouth, sitting up on your lap and you near about start to beg again before they casually remove the first layer of bulky armor from their top. The cheeky, padded armor of ‘VNNA’ being set to the side, followed by them leaning back to stand briefly as they start to undo the fly of their pants. “I think I have something to keep you quiet, little one. Hold still.”

You think you’ve never seen them hotter than when they stand to strip their pants off and boots, left in their socks and upper clothing with just their mastiff slung on their back. Your mouth waters at the sight of them in the sun, their legs and cunt revealed feeling more like a present than anything.  There’s dark red curls between their thighs, darker at the lips and clearly wet. Their fat, engorged clit already peeking from their lower lips and making your mouth water at the sight.

It makes it even more thrilling when you remember you’re in the arena. The announcer overhead reminding you with a, “Ring moving.” and thanking everything in you that you two were inside the ring. But that meant you had to be quick, because if the ring was coming this way, people were sure to follow. Thankfully, you knew no cameras lingered around the outskirts, so that eliminated the worry of being caught on national news. The drones being more eager to catch the action of full squads than two lingering ‘solos’.

Leather gloved fingers curl into your hair and yank your head back as Bloodhound moves on top of you. Resting a thigh on either side of your face and you eagerly inhale their scent as they get comfortable. You immediately curl your arms around their powerful thighs, your nails pressing to their flesh as they pull your hair harder, causing you to moan out and part your lips.

You go to speak, maybe tell them that they look beautiful, but quickly second guess speaking. You’re aching in your pants, probably trying to soak through the thick layers at this point, and at this rate you can only hope that they’ll spare you even a quick jerk off before they either take you out. Or leave you on your own.

Bloodhound must notice when you seem to quickly avoid speaking, because the harsh hand in your hair turns to them lightly raking their fingers through with a, “Good dog.” Cooed from their lips before they settle atop you. You can’t help but moan as you eagerly nose at their lower lips, licking them from hole to clit just like they like and just to feel them throb under your tongue.

You didn’t think you riled them up too much with the gun play, but the chase probably aided because they’re just as wet as you think you are. You sigh through your nose as you squeeze their thighs, urging them to put their full weight onto you instead of straining to sit upright. They wouldn’t kill  you, you’d tried telling them quite a few times even that you’d be glad to be suffocated this way.

With your urging, Bloodhound finally, cautiously applies all their weight to you. Allowing for you to reach them better as you quickly move to their clit. Latching on gently to suckle and work your tongue over them in a circular way, focusing more pressure on the base so you could lick from root to tip hungrily. They seem to appreciate it, soft sighs and grunts leaving them as their thighs tense. You knew they were sensitive, on the occasions they would allow you to touch them, they tended to cum quickly.

Your hips roll and buck into nothing with the movements of your own tongue without shame. Their noises are quiet, and you wish so badly you could hear them without the muffle of their mask, or even see their face. But the sounds alone make you clench around nothing. Bloodhound must notice your movements too, because you’re getting your hair pulled again, pulling you back ever so slightly until you’re sobbing and away from their cunt.

“Look at how shameless you are, my love,” They breathe out, watching as you try to squirm your way into getting your mouth on them again. You don’t even pay attention, not until they’re pressing their hips close enough for you to at least get your tongue to flick over them. High off the way they gasp and their hips stutter. “Pathetic and  ** mine ** .  **_ You are mine. _ ** ”

You nod quickly in agreement with a whimper, parting your lips when they hold you firmly. They move their hips closer, allowing you to suckle on their clit and brace yourself as they start to hump your face. Both of their hands find their way into your hair, pressing at your skull to ensure you stay right where they put you. You’re almost tempted to move a hand from their thigh to jerk yourself off in time, but you have a feeling you might lose that hand if you tried.

Bloodhound’s scent is overwhelming on your nose and your tongue. Hearing how their breath hitches, tapering off into soft, quiet growls with each breath exhaling from them. The telltale sound that they’re close. They’re losing focus on the grip of your hair, and you take the opportunity to move one of your hands from their thighs, the other moving to grip their ass to pull them up ever so slightly. They continue humping your face, growling out things in their native tongue that you can make out in English of things like ‘Want to breed you’ ‘my little whore’ ‘mine’.

You fit your hand under them and sink two fingers inside of them. Curling them forward in time with their humps until their soft growling turns into a loud cry. Their hips slam forward against your face, grinding against your eager tongue as you quickly pound your fingers inside of them. Bloodhound makes the sweetest of sounds at the motions, their thighs quivering and the hands in your hair pulling until it starts to hurt.

You only stop when they pull your head away with a satisfied huff, gently pulling your fingers out of them so you could bring them to your mouth. You ensure they’re watching, their own head lightly tilted and lenses focused on you as you lick and suckle your fingers clean. Looking at the lenses covering their eyes with your own half lidded as a moan leaves you. “Fuck, you taste so good, Hound.”

“You are insatiable.” Bloodhound laughs softly back. Their voice breathless as they move off of you. You get the full pleasure of watching them bend over to grab their pants, licking your lips and almost asking them to have another seat. That you’d make it just as quick-

The sound of gunfire in the distance seems to perk you both up. You can’t help the whine as you lie on the ground still, pulling yourself up onto your elbows and pouting up at them. “What about me?” You practically whine out, using a bratty tone that catches their attention instantly as they sling their Kraber over their shoulder.

“What  ** about  ** you,  ástin mín ?” Bloodhound mocks back, taking a few steps until they stand between your legs. You’re about to speak when their boot presses between your thighs, applying light pressure to your cock that makes your head turn with a cry. Pressing your hips up into their boot with a sob near leaving you. You can practically hear the grin in their voice as they use a mock sympathetic voice, “Aw,  **_ aumingja _ ** **__ ** **_ litla _ ** **__ ** **_ bráð _ ** , you have lost this round. No reward for second place.”

For good measure, they gently rock their boot just to make you pound your fist against the ground. Five seconds, you tell yourself, five seconds is all you need as you start to hump their boot. But they don’t even allow you pleasure of two seconds when they move away and make you cry out like the brat you feel like right now.

“Perhaps later I shall deliver a proper punishment to you.” They promise as they turn your back to you and turn their comms back online. Leaving you to lie there with their taste and scent lingering on you. You’re dizzily aroused, thinking about jerking off behind the boulder alone until you hear someone in your comms fizzle into existence.

“There you are, skinsuit. Thought you offed yourself before the fun could even begin.” Comes the gruff, snarling tone on the other end. You do a quick glance to your radar to see their arrows headed your way, groaning to yourself as you get up off the ground on shaky feet and click your comms back on to reply.

“Sorry,” You croak out, your voice hoarse and shaky. “Ran into...ran into some company.”

“Like the big bad wolf?” Teases another voice over the radio. You flush at Makoa’s tone, praying that Bloodhound’s scent wasn’t obvious to anyone but yourself as you start to jog in their direction to get back into the game.

Yeah.

Definitely like the big bad wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations for Bloodhound
> 
> Litli kanína: Little bunny/rabbit
> 
> ástin mín: My love
> 
> Aumingja litla bráð: Poor little prey


End file.
